


sleeping habits

by floweredtongue



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 16:38:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14109570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floweredtongue/pseuds/floweredtongue
Summary: ryo’s sleep has been affecting him more than he realises. or is it just his sleep? is there something else lying beneath the surface of his consciousness? there probably is, and at this point he doesn’t know how to handle it.





	sleeping habits

**Author's Note:**

> since this was received pretty well on tumblr, I figured I'd post it here. shout out to my friend who had an Ao3 code already because it would have been a ridiculously long wait to post this fic otherwise.
> 
> I didn't see enough of Ryo's emotional turmoil with his dad's death so I had to write it and make it gay. you know, like you do.
> 
> feedback and comments are appreciated!!

Ryo has always had a place to call home. Though it might not have been the best environment to grow up, Ryo is used to the lonely, oversized house he’s dubbed his own. Ever since the incident with his father though, it's been harder to really find himself comfortable in the house, to even consider it a home.

He's tried sleeping in his bed for hours, now, but not a single ounce of sleep seems to set into his body as he does. Then again, he's always had sleeping problems. These ones are different though. He can't find a comfortable position to sleep in, or when he thinks he's found one, he cannot help but be drawn back to the memory of his father trying to kill him.

His labored breathing, the noise the knife made when it stabbed through his blanket, the smell of sweat and the crazed look in his father's eyes as he fought for his life. It makes him feel sick. Before, when the memory was new in his mind, he would have to vomit, he would cry. Now, though, there's not much of an emotional response. At most, he flinches and is shaken awake by the unpleasant memory. He's found that a lot of things have become static to his brain. Things that would normally bug him, wouldn't. He feels catatonic, going through the motions almost. He feels stronger, but he doesn't feel like he should really call it that.

He feels dead, in a strange way. Half of the time he wonders if he's dreaming. He's probably not though, a lot of his life has been misfortune after misfortune. 

His eyes feel like sandpaper at this point.

He cannot sleep. He hasn't felt well rested in a while. 

It's destroying him. 

 

\--

When he goes to pick up Akira in the morning, he cannot hide from his worried look. Ryo braces himself against the steering wheel as his friend cautiously crawls up front.

“You usually sit in the back,” Ryo observes.

“I felt like switching it up,” Akira’s voice is soft as he counters. Ryo nods slowly and turns the key in his car, starting up the beast of a vehicle with a chugging start. 

It's silent for the first few minutes of the ride. The radio is off, which makes it even eerier. Usually, the car is filled with idle chatter. Akira fills in Ryo about his day, and Ryo makes commentary, but it's different. 

Akira seems to choose his words carefully as he asks,“Did you sleep alright, Ryo? You seem off.”

Ryo freezes like a deer caught in headlights. He's been found out. He ducks away from Akira’s gaze. Akira continues to look at him. His words are caught in his mouth. He stops at a stoplight and allows himself to make eye contact with Akira. A weary smile comes to his face. It's not funny, he doesn't know why he's smiling.

“I haven't slept very well in a while,” he says.

He doesn't want to see Akira’s face. He's glad that the stoplight turned green. He's glad he can drive forward without a second thought. He's glad he can Ignore Akira’s worried eyes. He can hide.

They pull into the driveway and he cannot do that anymore. Akira’s hand gently touches Ryo's as he pulls the stick shift into park. His eyes meet his. 

“You're allowed to talk to me about anything, you know that.... right?” The softness in Akira’s voice makes his chest ache. He almost breaks right there. He nods and the two of them get out of the car. 

The two of them take up their positions on the couch. The house smells like booze and Ryo's cigarettes. Akira never complains. He is nothing but kind and gentle with Ryo. He treats him like he's made of glass. He needs it, he is thankful for it. He feels like glass, he's felt like glass for these past few months. It seems like anything could send him off the edge.

Almost if on cue, tears suddenly sting at his eyes and he doesn't know why. He allows them to stay in his eyes. He allows them to escape. He permits himself, just for a moment, to tear up and unscrew the lid on his emotions. 

What he doesn't allow, is the loud hiccup that rips from his chest.

Akira spins around faster than he's probably ever seen him move. Ryo's hands are over his eyes and he's weeping, wailing even. He can't stop. He curses himself and bares his teeth, trying so hard to fight off the tears that keep coming. He feels strong arms encase him in a firm hug. It's Akira. He knows it's Akira. He's not let anyone touch him in months. It feels nice, it feels warm. He feels Akira’s hand in his hair, rubbing and stroking. He wants to apologise. He wants to stop himself. His crying grows louder, almost hysterical. His whole body shakes. Akira hushes him and he swears he feels his lips touch the crown of his head. 

It feels like forever that he's encased in his arms. It feels like he's been crying for a century. He removes his hands from his eyes and sniffles.They are puffy, and they burn. He doesn't speak for a minute. He doesn't like thinking without speaking. He hates not having a plan. 

He speaks anyways.

“I hate living here after knowing he died here, knowing that I watched him die here,” he says. His voice is thick, it doesn't sound like his own. “I can't sleep. I haven't slept well in months. “

Akira nods, his hand reaches up and cups Ryo’s face. He leans into the touch almost desperately. Ryo feels his thumb rub away stray tears. His breath hitches. Akira’s touch feels good. He's desperate for it. The tender look in his eyes eats at his chest. It hurts. His breath is labored.

“It hurts,” Ryo said. “It hurts being alone, it hurts acting like everything is alright.”

Akira is careful with his words, once more,”Then don't act like everything is alright. You don't have to be alone. I'll stay with you.” 

Ryo's eyes dart away nervously,“You can't stay here all the time, Miki and her parents couldn't possibly allow that.”

“I'll stay with you as much as I can, then.”

Ryo nods. Akira pushes him into his chest again with a tight hug. Ryo hugs him back. It's warm and kind in Akira’s arms. One hand rubs at his back, while the other plays with his hair. Ryo squeezes Akira against him. 

“Can you sleep with me tonight?” he asks, feeling like child.

“Of course, Ryo.”

He genuinely and softly smiles for the first time in a while,“Thank you.”


End file.
